


Staring Into the Fire

by alxxiis



Series: I Don't Use That Title Much [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alxxiis/pseuds/alxxiis
Summary: Corinne deals with losing Hawke in the Fade. (Not sure this will be the canon decision for her, but it makes for a good angsty fic.)
Relationships: Hawke (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Hawke/Inquisitor, Hawke/Trevelyan, Male Hawke/Female Inquisitor, Male Hawke/Female Trevelyan
Series: I Don't Use That Title Much [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649917
Kudos: 3





	Staring Into the Fire

A spit of sparks, kicked up by a broken log, was a mere blur in Corinne’s unfocused eyes. The swirling tendrils of disbelief and anguish pricked at every thought in her head.

The echo of a knock carried up the stairs to where she sat in her room in front of the fireplace, but she made no move to acknowledge whoever stood behind her door. She didn’t want to see or speak to anyone, or rather, the one person she wanted was lost to the Fade. Her stomach turned as the scene replayed in her mind.

Nightmare, the physical embodiment of fear in the form of a giant spider-like beast, stood between them and escape. Exhausted and hopeless, Corinne’s shoulders slumped, and she readied herself for the inevitable death that awaited them; she silently thanked the Maker or whoever that her companions had made it out. No snarky remark or joke or anything to lighten the mood. She was spent.

“Go!” Hawke cried. “I’ll cover you!”

His words hadn’t immediately registered, and she merely stood there, blinking at Nightmare. Stroud said something, and the two argued, but their voices swirled together into an intelligible cacophony. When they fell into silence, Hawke grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her.

“Corinne, look at me.”

Her gaze snapped to his; her stomach lurched at his expression. They’d come to a decision, and she’d been too frightened to try and talk them out of it. His pale blue eyes glistened, the whites pink, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Sweat painted his slicked-back hair even blacker, and dirt and blood marred his already imperfect face. She sought every detail, wanting to have him memorized. This would be her last chance.

“Garrett…”

Fingers reached on either side of his face, and he leaned into her palm. Time for their escape was precious, and she was wasting it. But she couldn’t let him go. Not yet.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him and scraping their armor, and he brought his lips to hers. Deep and heavy, weighed down with the knowledge this would be their last, and it was over far too soon.

In his typical fashion, he smiled and said, “I always wanted to be a martyr. I just wish it hadn’t been Maker-damned spiders.”

Corinne swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained. He ran his thumb under her eye, wiping the tear that slipped down.

“Garret, please.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“Tell Varric I said ‘Good-bye,’” he said, pulling her chin down and placing a gentle kiss on top of her head. He breathed into her hair, “I love you, Corinne.”

Without waiting for her response, Hawke released her and ran toward the demon. She lunged after him. He wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t let him. But Stroud grabbed her and began dragging her toward the Rift.

“We have to go!” he shouted.

Hawke spared a glance at them and whipped his staff in their direction, sending them further away from him.

“Get her out of here!” Hawke ordered before returning his attention to Nightmare.

Stroud returned to his feet and pulled Corinne to hers. His hands dug into her arms, forcing her to turn away from Hawke and to the Rift. She heard Hawke grunt and something hit rock, but Stroud wouldn’t allow her to look back. They half-ran, half-shuffled to their escape, falling through the tear in the Veil and landing on the stone floor of the fortress.

Corinne’s hand immediately and thoughtlessly reached out and closed the Rift, earning cheers from her companions and the swarm of Grey Wardens that surrounded them. Stroud still held her arms, though his grip had softened to one of concern rather than urgency.

A different hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped. Varric.

“How you doing, Corinne?” he asked.

She blinked, her eyes gritty from staring into the fire too long.

“I miss him,” she said after a few long breaths.

If she was more thoughtful, she’d ask him the same, but she couldn’t bring herself to care or even put up a concerned facade. Her gaze returned the fire as Varric took the seat beside her.

“Over ten years,” he said. “Ten years I’d known him.” He chuckled. “It feels longer than that. He had a way of making time seem longer, made it mean more.”

Varric continued to speak, but Corinne couldn’t listen. Too consumed by her own thoughts, her own sense of loss, and her own unwillingness to let him go. She couldn’t accept this. 

Her room suddenly felt too big yet suffocating, the keep walls built solely to keep her entombed by the pain and stress of being the Inquisitor. This wouldn’t have happened, this shouldn’t have happened.

“Varric,” she said, unsure whether she interrupted him. “I want you to do me a favor.”

He hesitated before responding. “What is it?”

“What you did for Garrett,” she said, “keeping him hidden, keeping him from Cassandra. When this is over, will you do that for me?”


End file.
